The Door

I am standing there ---
both my palms up to elbows touching the door.
My face turn to the left
and my right cheek can feel the coldness of the door.
I wonder if you are there on the other side of the door.
I think I can hear you moving about.
Is it really you, there?
My throat is dried.
Where is the water?
Why my voice is lost?
I tried --- but I cannot manage to make a sound.
Yes, we are like that.
One cold door shutting us down away into separate worlds.
Even though it is just a door, while standing there
I felt like I am holding you next to me.
I think I can hear you calling my name.
If only I can answer ---

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